


Sentinel

by leen_go (cagedchaos)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Assassin!AU, M/M, Minor Character Deaths, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:42:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cagedchaos/pseuds/leen_go
Summary: Xiumin is the Sentinel for Sector 5 and he is sent to cancel an agent who has been underperforming. It's an easy job, only things get complicated and Xiumin has to find a way out.





	1. Prologue

Xiumin is a Sentinel. He is one of eighteen others, each of whom is responsible for their own division. His job is to ensure that all agents of Sector 5 are performing within their parameters, executing cancellations where required. He gets his orders in the form of messages to his work issue phone, orders he follows without question because he owes his life to Sector 5 and this is how he repays his debt.

Xiumin follows a schedule. Every morning, he wakes up, makes breakfast and goes downstairs to the gym. At exactly 7:15am, he comes back and opens the kitchen cupboard third from the left and pulls out three grey-tinted glass bottles, each containing coloured capsules.

White is for precision. Red is for humanity. Blue is for speed.

On the surface, they enhance his abilities, but they are also an addiction. Xiumin’s first kill was an agent, designation: Kris, who had gone rogue and was a security risk. Kris had been a friend before either of them knew of 5’s existence, back when Xiumin was just Kim Minseok and Kris was just Wu Yifan. Pulling the trigger had been easy, even in the brisk chill of autumn, but the nightmares had not. The pills help with that, especially the red ones that take away his compassion and help ebb away the guilt until he no longer feels the troublesome emotion. Or much of any emotion for that matter.


	2. White is For Precision

_Assignment_ _Type:_ _External_  
 _Civilian_ _Name: Do_ _Kyungsoo_  
 _Motivation:_ _Intimate relation with Sector Agent (Designation: Kai) poses security threat_  
 _Notes:_ _Agent Kai is a valuable member to the agency and his termination is not authorized._  
 _Timeline for execution:_ _One week_  
 _Method: Undefined accident, as per Sentinel discretion_

Xiumin almost laughed at his newest assignment. He found it mildly amusing that despite the various previous identical cases, Sector agents were still stupid enough to get caught up in compromising personal affairs. Sector 5, along with every other division (Xiumin assumed), didn't allow agents to develop relations with civilians when on assignment above ground. It weakened the agent’s resolve, put their cover in danger, and put each and every agent of Sector in danger as well.

As Xiumin memorized the information from his text message before deleting it, an email arrived in his inbox with the personal details of Do Kyungsoo, including his picture, his home and work addresses, the license plate of his car, and the location of the breakfast restaurant he frequented every weekend among other specifics. He memorized those too and purged the information from his account, removing any evidence of its existence in the first place.

Immediately after, Xiumin dialled the number for the nearest car rental company, requesting a black sedan. As he waited for the operator to process his request, his eyes scanned the metal shelves in his storage room, looking for the appropriate out-of-state licence plates, tossing them into a black duffel bag before heading back into his room to pack for his trip.

Brown boots, dark-wash jeans, black fitted zip-up sweater, all folded perfectly into the bag with enough space for the weapons he added on top. Xiumin opened the third kitchen cupboard and pulled out the set of three containers, tossing the first two into the bag next to his knives before opening the third and pouring out a red pill before tossing that bottle into the bag as well.

For three years, Xiumin had stuck to his prescription of one tablet of each colour, every morning, no more, no less. They made him faster than regular agents, reacting with lightening quick reflexes. They made him more sensitive and aware of his surroundings. They reduced the amount if sleep he needed. They removed the anxiety from being in the field.

They made him a better soldier.

Every year though, near the middle of November, Xiumin always took a couple extra red ones throughout the day. November 20th as always the most difficult day of the year, though Xiumin couldn’t quite place the reason, and the added red pills helped to keep his interfering emotions in check. Today was November 17th, and Xiumin was now up to three red pills every twenty-four hours. It was a good thing that his new supply had arrived at the beginning of the month.

The number of capsules that were delivered to his door every four months was fixed, and he kept his extra consumption a secret from his employers: he couldn't afford weakness, not when he needed to get the job done without interference. To compensate, on days where his services weren’t required, he skipped the red pills in the morning, taking painkillers for the headaches he received from the withdrawal. They were infrequent but when they occurred, they were piercing and made his vision blur, short-lived as they were. Xiumin spent those days in his home by himself, meditating.

...

Kai was just under six feet, his skin was a richer tone than Xiumin's own, had sort of sleepy eyes and messy hair. He had been assigned on a deep cover mission to spy on an international politician with a cover of an architect who had just moved into the city to complete a contract. He went by the name of Kim Jongin, renting a unit right above Do Kyungsoo, and like all other Sector agents, Kai kept to himself.

Or at least that was what he had been reporting to headquarters. Over the past couple of days, Xiumin had observed Kai walking Do Kyungsoo home in the evenings, and eating dinner and watching TV in his apartment together. Xiumin smirked, a little upset that his orders prevented the cancellation of Kai, because it was obvious to him that Kai was also a danger to their cause, and a danger to himself.

Do Kyungoo was five-feet-eight, had round eyes and a short haircut, enjoyed his morning coffee with two creams and two sugars, and was a soft-spoken male who took matters seriously. Do Kyungsoo’s apartment was designed minimally, with a recurring theme of trees and leaves. It was one of five identical units on the seventh floor of the building, and was the behind the third door from the elevator.

Xiumin sat in his rented black sedan, now fitted with the fake license plates that he’d packed into his bag, checking his watch. Xiumin had been watching Do Kyungsoo for five days and was mildly impressed with the rigidity of his target’s schedule, probably second only to Xiumin himself.

As expected, Do Kyungsoo stepped out of his apartment building as the minute hand on Xiumin’s watch hit 7:03am. He turned the key in the ignition and listened to the engine roar to life before hitting the accelerator hard as Do Kyungsoo’s left foot stepped off the sidewalk.

...

Xiumin returned to his apartment and replaced all his weapons, his clothes, his glass bottles to their rightful places. The last of the three bottles had barely left his fingertips when he noticed something amiss. There were no strange sounds, nor was a single item in his home misplaced, but someone had clearly been here, and they were still there. Xiumin cleared his throat lightly, closed the cupboard door quietly, and took a cautious step sideways, his senses on high alert as he reached towards a knife in its wooden block.

“You really want to do that?” A voice echoed behind him accompanied by the click of a safety being pulled and the feel of cold metal on the back of his head.

Xiumin breathed in calmly before removing his hand from around the handle of a chef’s knife and raising both arms up on either side of his head. “This is a bad idea, Kai, and you know it."

“Shut up."

“Boss was right, you _are_ one of our better agents. How did you find me, Kai?” Xiumin felt the corners of his mouth pull slightly upwards.

The barrel dug deeper into the back of Xiumin’s head, “ _Shut up_ and move into the living room. Any sudden movements and a bullet makes itself home in your head."

Xiumin grinned with a shrug, his back still facing his intruder as he made his way slowly towards his living room. “Have it your way, then."

Xiumin waited until he stepped purposely on the floorboard that creaked when more than a pound of weight was placed on it. He felt Kai's attention waver from the slight waver of the gun on his head and took the opportunity to swing backwards, his elbow connecting with the side of Kai’s face, throwing the latter off balance momentarily before Xiumin felt a reciprocating blow into his side, just below his ribs. Xiumin’s leg instinctively kicked up into the back of Kai’s knee, making him kneel reflexively and drop the gun to the side with a clatter. A moment later and Kai was lying on his back with Xiumin standing standing above him, his own gun trained to his forehead.

“Look, I get it. It’s human nature to want to make a connection, to feel safe, to feel love. But in our line of work, those feelings can get you killed,” Xiumin couldn’t resist using his free hand to wave around him, “See Exhibit A."

Kai coughed painfully and moved to wipe the blood on the left side of his forehead as Xiumin continued, “I have orders not to kill you, so you can keep coming at me, and we can keep doing this, or, you can focus your anger somewhere else before my orders change and you become my new assignment. When that happens, you can be sure that we will not be having such a pleasant chat." Xiumin put the safety back on with a click and turned the handle towards Kai. “Choose your next move wisely, Kai."

Xiumin let Kai take his weapon back when he pulled himself off the floor. He tensed momentarily in anticipation as Kai glared at him before tucking the gun into the back of his pants and leaving through the front door.

Xiumin walked back to the third cupboard and pulled out another of the red pills.

...

 _Assignment_ _Type:_ _Internal_  
 _Agent_ _Name:_ _Lay_  
 _Motivation:_ _Failure to execute mission on multiple occasions_  
 _Timeline for execution:_ _72 hours_  
 _Method: Close_ _Range_

Xiumin stared up at the curtained window with his gloved hands in his pockets, back leaning against a lamp post. He was standing on the sidewalk across from the address he’d memorized seventeen hours earlier.  Even without the method described in his commands, Xiumin preferred close range eliminations wherever possible for internal cancellations; he liked giving agents at least a fair fight, let them know they failed before their last breath.

Lay had walked through the front doors of the apartment building a minute ago, and the lights in his home finally turned on. With a last sigh, Xiumin pushed off the metal post and started across the street.

...

It was when Xiumin had just snapped Lay’s neck with his gloved hands that the front door to Lay’s cover identity’s apartment (now in complete disarray from the tussle) opened and a blond male stepped inside, keys hitting the floor noisily as he took in the messy interior of the home. Xiumin dropped the body, hitting the light switch and plunging the living room back into darkness before the newcomer could turn and notice. He retreated into the shadows before opening the window quietly and slipping outside onto the metal fire escape landing.

A loud scream ripped into the night air above him as he climbed down the ladder and dropped feet-first onto the pavement.  


	3. Red is for Humanity

Xiumin chose to wait for morning before heading out. He took one each of the white and blue tablets, ignoring the third container altogether; Xiumin had finished the last of the red ones two days ago, even after having skipped a couple days and cutting them in half to make them stretch further. Xiumin wasn’t concerned though, despite the order that had come in the previous evening. His file had read that Lay was a loner; he had no family, lived alone and he had no other ties, typical of an agent who hadn't been above ground for longer than a year. Lay had failed on missions more than once and it was obvious what had to be done; Xiumin didn’t need artificial enhancements to not feel guilty with this assignment because Lay was simply a glitch in the system that had to be addressed.

Everything had gone according to plan until that apartment door had opened. There had been nothing in Agent Lay’s file that had suggested he didn’t live alone. The new arrival had taken Xiumin by surprise and had he not been affected by the incompleteness if his drugs, he would not have chosen to hide. He would have chosen to remove his witness, even if he couldn’t be sure that he had been seen. He would have chosen to obey the instinct that told him that Lay may have put Sector in danger by involving himself so closely with a civilian, who should have been eliminated as well. He would have chosen to let the police search the neighbourhood for a suspect in a break-and-enter gone wrong. He would have chosen to go home and sleep easy, knowing he had helped remove a bug in the otherwise perfect program

His judgement had been clouded, and now he had a loose end to tie up. He pulled another painkiller from its bottle on the shelf and swallowed it as his head began to throb once more.

...

The memorial service for Zhang Yixing took place on the following Saturday morning, Xiumin distinctly remembered because it was the same day that his new batch of medications was delivered, and he could finally return to his regulated medication schedule. Since Zhang Yixing had no known family, it was likely that it'd been the unknown roommate of his who had helped put the last of Zhang Yixing's affairs in order

Xiumin put on a tailored suit, chose a polished pair of shoes and tightened the crimson coloured tie around his neck.  As he got out of his car at the funeral center, he slid a pair of shades over his eyes and straightened his clothes

When he stepped through the front door, his mind immediately discovered the closest exits at the side and back doors. A trained eye also told him that if he needed it, he could throw a large object through the ceiling-high windows at the back of the room for an escape to the back of the building. Two separate flights of stairs led upstairs while a third led into the basement, and the fire extinguisher was to the left of a heavy an old looking table that had ornamental paintings hung to its right, useful if he needed to knock out an attacker.

There were three people standing near the front, two already seated in the rows of folding chairs, and the blond male Xiumin now had marked in his books stood at the entrance, greeting the minimal guests. None of them seemed to have noticed his arrival and Xiumin didn't introduce himself, keeping his head down and sticking to sliding along the walls unseen.

…

“Let us not forget Zhang Yixing,” Luhan (as he’d introduced himself at the beginning of the eulogy) closed the small notebook he’d been reading notes from and slipped back into his seat in the front row, picking up a brown rabbit from its cage and burying his face into its fur, an action Xiumin found peculiar to take place at a funeral.

“Hi, Luhan?” Xiumin announced himself once the other five people had left the room, “You’re the best friend, right?”

Luhan was still cradling the animal in his arms when he turned around and gave Xiumin a mildly suspicious look. “Yes. And how do _you_ know Yixing?”

Xiumin put on an apologetic smile. “Truthfully, I don’t. I‘m kind of a klutz. You see, I’d input the wrong date in my calendar and then it was too late to get up and leave without being rude,” he lied smoothly, automatically taking on a carefree and slightly bumbling persona.

“Oh,” Luhan replied simply, clearly not sure how to respond to the stranger who was confused about where he should be. “Can I help you?”

“I was just wondering what the deal with this bunny rabbit was.”

“Er, she was Yixing’s. He’d named her Lay, which I had told him made no sense, but for reason, he was adamant on the name.”

“What’ll happen to her now, you know, since… uhm… you know…” Xiumin pretended to shift uncomfortably at the subject, reaching out to stroke the now owner-less pet.

“I suppose she’ll stay with me then.” Luhan looked down lovingly at the rabbit, running a hand through its soft fur before turning his slightly pink eyes back up at Xiumin, “I’m sorry, but was there anything else? There’s some stuff I have to get back to.” Luhan’s eyes flickered around the room as a replacement of signalling vaguely around him with his arm.

“No, nothing else,” Xiumin turned to leave but turned around again a calculated couple of steps later, “Did you need a hand with anything? You know, since I was stupid and booked the entire morning off anyway…”

Luhan looked surprised at the offer, “Uhm…”

“It’s fine if you don’t want some stranger hanging about, but I just figured that you’re probably already really tired from everything and that you could use some help, especially since it looks like you’ve had to handle everything on your own. Where’s his family?” Xiumin spouted recklessly, staying in character.

Luhan raised an eyebrow, “Uhm, he doesn’t have any…” He took a moment to contemplate further as he replaced the rabbit to its mobile carrier, “I’m sorry, but I still don’t know your name.”

Xiumin smiled in a friendly manner as he held out his hand, “Oh! It’s Kim Minseok,” he made up. He hadn’t come up with a full profile on the character he was playing prior to his arrival, but the improvised name seemed to fit the part well. Something in the back of his mind told him it was a poorly chosen name, but he could come up with no acceptable reason, continuing to smile as he shook hands with Luhan.

…

Luhan let Kim Minseok follow him around after that, asking him to help carry paper boxes of things from Zhang Yixing’s apartment and Xiumin had been apprised of the fact that Luhan _wasn’t_ Zhang Yixing’s roommate: “I just have the key to his apartment since I’m over there so often anyway,” Luhan had explained. Xiumin wasn’t particularly fond of the mundane activity, but he had to learn more about Luhan. He had to find an appropriate accident for him that would not make it look like it was connected to the breaking-and-entering case. Maybe Luhan would have a health issue that Xiumin could work with. Or perhaps unsettled debts from aggressive loan sharks, or a rich family member that would leave him a large fortune in a will that made another relative jealous.

When Xiumin returned to his apartment to record his observations later that evening, he had none of those. Instead, in spite of the tragedy that had been thrust upon him recently, Luhan was an optimistic person who laughed easily, with nothing _at all_ against him. Before he’d met Zhang Yixing, Luhan had also been new to town, with the two meeting in line at a store check-out, where Luhan had laughed loudly at the ridiculously number of jars of Nutella that the person in front of him had put on the conveyor belt.

…

“Are you following me?”

Xiumin suppressed a grin. Yes, of course he was. “No. I’m meeting a friend,” Kim Minseok answered. Xiumin noted the handful of other people around him and decided that an accidental alcohol poisoning would not work. Maybe an order of chilly cheese fries that had the misfortune of coming into contact with the bar’s store of rat poison?

Luhan narrowed his bloodshot eyes at him anyway before going back to stirring the drink in front of him.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Xiumin asked. Kim Minseok was a caring person, who liked to look out for others, especially those who had just lost someone close to them and were sitting on a bar stool alone with flushed cheeks.

Luhan laughed humourlessly. “No, because Yixing’s still smiling at me even though he’s already gone.”

Kim Minseok hopped up onto the stool next to Luhan, put a comforting hand on Luhan’s back, moving it in soothing circles and signalling the bartender for a glass of water to replace the drink in Luhan’s hands. _Not tonight,_ Xiumin thought to himself, _there are too many witnesses_. The risk of failure was also too high with so many capable people to call an ambulance.

“I miss him, Kim Minseok,” Luhan finally said after a long period of silence. He leaned his head sideways until it found Xiumin’s shoulder.

Xiumin shifted slightly under the weight but Kim Minseok didn’t reject the motion, taking one of Luhan’s hands from around his glass of water and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know. I’m sorry.”

…

Kim Minseok had given his cell phone number to Luhan, telling him that if he ever needed to, he could call the number. “For anything,” Kim Minseok had said.

Xiumin had purchased a separate device for this self-assigned job. Luhan still wasn’t giving up any weaknesses that he could effectively take advantage of and Xiumin had resigned to the fact that this was going to be long term. The phone rang the morning two days after Kim Minseok had taken Luhan home in a taxi, as Xiumin had been beating a couple of eggs to cook for breakfast.

“Hi,” Luhan’s voice said into Xiumin’s ear.

“Hi,” Xiumin returned and waited patiently for Luhan to speak again, putting down the bowl and whisk lightly onto the counter and wiping his hands.

“Uhm, are you free tonight?” Luhan asked after a pause.

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Well, I have to go in for work in an hour or so, but after that, I’m going to need a distraction. I… I can’t keep this up.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll come by ‘round 6 tonight?”

“Yeah. That… that sounds good.” _Click_.

When Xiumin came back from the gym later that morning, he opened each grey glass container, poured out a single pill from each and placed them on the counter. With the back of the utility knife he always kept in his left boot, he crushed up each into a fine powder before discarding a tenth of each amount. If he was going to play the part of a civilian, he was going to have to act like one. And civilians did not sleep only four hours a night, did not scan every room they went into for potential dangers or for the nearest exits, did not jump at every sound, and did not smile at the idea of death.

…

Luhan and Kim Minseok ended up ordering pizza and watching an old animated cartoon in Luhan’s living room. Luhan sat on the couch, while Xiumin chose instead to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch, slightly to the left of where Luhan’s legs hung over the edge. Even in the dark, Xiumin didn’t need his augmented vision to see that Luhan was trying his best not to cry out loud behind him, despite the hilarious antics of the drawn characters on the screen.  When the seat shuddered on Xiumin’s back for a third time, he swallowed and Kim Minseok reached a hand behind and found Luhan’s for the second time since they met.

“It’s okay to cry.”

…

It was good thing that there was an average of at least a couple of months in between Xiumin’s official assignments. It had been a month since Kim Minseok had introduced himself to Luhan and Xiumin was already down to taking only half of what he was supposed to be taking every morning, and he knew he was no longer at a hundred percent. Granted, fifty percent of Xiumin was more than a hundred percent of most agents, but Xiumin was sure that his superiors would not be pleased to know that their number one was inhibiting his abilities, willingly, _whatever the reason_.

Xiumin used the back of his knife and swept the powders into a small cup, the colours combining into half a rainbow. He clenched his jaw before tipping the cup into his mouth and washing it down with water.

…

_A little boy, aged ten, ran screaming at the top of his lungs around a backyard swing set. Another boy the same age was chasing him with a grin plastered to his face._

_“Stop it, Yifan! That’s disgusting!”_

_“It’s just a little lizard, Minseok. Come on, it won’t bite.”_

_“But it’s_ gross _! And where did you even get that?!”_

_“I plucked if off a tree. Duh.” There was black under the boy’s fingernails and a streak of dirt across his left cheek._

_The first boy finally stopped running, hands on his knees in a hunch to catch his breath. When the second brought the twig with the baby lizard hanging from it towards him, he let out another squeal and hit his friend’s hand to make him drop what he was holding._

_“Awww, Minseok! You’re no fun. I wanted to raise it to become a great dragon that’ll fly us wherever we want!”_

_“You’re stupid, Fanfan, that_ thing _doesn’t even have wings. And dragons aren’t even real.”_

_The second boy pouted and stuck out his tongue before breaking into a smile. “Come on birthday boy. Let’s get back inside before your mum yells at me.” He held out a hand for his friend and the first boy, in an effort to get revenge, ignored it and started to tickle him until he was giggling on the ground instead._

…

Xiumin woke up with a start, jumping to his feet when he didn’t recognize his surroundings, his eyes scanning the dark room rapidly before recognizing the furnishings around him. It took him a second to recall that he was not in his own bed for a reason. He reclaimed his position on the floor at the foot of Luhan’s couch with a long exhale, reaching for the remote control sitting on the coffee table in front of him to turn off the television in front of which both Luhan and Xiumin had fallen asleep.

Bringing a hand to his forehead, Xiumin tried to remember the last time he’d fallen asleep before one in the morning, and not in his own bedroom. Even when he had to travel long distances for his work, he never suffered from jetlag, because his body could easily adjust the four hours of sleep he needed. Xiumin rubbed his temples slowly as he breathed in deeply; he needed to finish this assignment quickly, before the effects of his medication adjustment were permanent.

Xiumin stood up again and started towards the door. Two steps towards his destination, he stopped and turned around to glance at the sleeping figure on the couch, curled up with his knees into his chest with the brown rabbit wrapped warmly into his arms. A dried streak ran from the corner of his eye down to the seat cushion and Xiumin balled his hands into fists; it would be so easy to finish it off _right now_. Luhan probably wouldn’t even put up a fight.

Kim Minseok turned towards the bedroom, returning with a blanket and covering Luhan’s shivering body with it before slipping out quietly.

…

_Minseok held onto Yifan’s hand tightly, scared that if he let go, his friend would simply fall apart, like a drinking glass tumbling to the ground with an inevitable shatter. Yifan had just had to endure a seemingly endless number of hours of people dressed in respectful black telling him that they were sorry, that they were there if the young teenager needed anything, that his parents had been great people, that things would be okay._

_That Yifan would be okay._

_Minseok had gathered from ten years of standing beside his best friend through thick and thin that Yifan wasn’t one to worry others. Yifan was the type to put on a brave smile even when what he really wanted to do was retreat to his bedroom and hide under his blankets in his closet. Minseok was never great with words, but Minseok and Yifan didn’t need words. So Minseok just continued holding Yifan’s hand as the crowd in their living room started to thin out, leaving only the two of them in the empty room. Minseok only left Yifan’s side momentarily to warm some milk in the kitchen. When he returned to the living room, Yifan was in the exact position Minseok had left him, sitting in an armchair in the dark with his gaze straight in front of him, eyes glazed over and seeing nothing._

_“Here,” Minseok whispered, grabbing Yifan’s hand lightly and wrapping the fingers around the warm mug. He saw the muscles that lined Yifan’s jaw clench and instinctively wrapped his arms around Yifan’s neck, and pulling his best friend in even closer when the body under him began convulsing from the tears the teenager who’d been trying so hard to act older than he really was had been holding back all day._

_That was the night that Minseok learned that adults lied: Yifan wasn’t going to be okay._

...

Xiumin didn’t know his age. He was sure he had a birthday, but the years in service to Sector 5 with more aliases than he could count had blurred the line between fact and fiction. It didn’t matter because he didn’t feel that the day on which he was born was anything to celebrate but Luhan’s birthday was tomorrow and Kim Minseok felt that Luhan definitely needed the cheering up.

Luhan had a surprisingly long list of friends in his phone (whose case had the picture of a deer, to match his name), but Xiumin found it peculiar that none of them had ever knocked on Luhan’s door to see how he was doing in the last month and a half. Then again, the world didn’t stop just for one person. So, Kim Minseok took on the responsibilities of all them, letting Luhan know that he would always pick up the phone whenever he called, even if it was four in the morning and he didn’t say a single word over the line for an hour.

When Xiumin woke up, he followed his usual schedule, grinding up his morning medications again (now down to a quarter of what was his norm), before making his way over to Luhan’s apartment, straightening himself before knocking gingerly on the door.

“Minseok?” Luhan opened the door, hands still rubbing the sleep from his puffy eyes: he’d been crying again. Xiumin pretended to not have seen.

Kim Minseok smiled, took a deep breath and pushed open the door further to let himself in, “Come on, we’re going out.”

“What?” Luhan yawned. “What are you doing here? I have work today.”

Kim Minseok laughed as he walked towards the kitchen, “No, you don’t. I called in sick for you today.” He began unpacking the brown paper bag that he had brought with him: a carton of eggs, an onion, mushrooms, ham, cheese, a large orange, a loaf of bread.

Luhan began to raise an eyebrow, “What are you doing, Minseok?”

“What does it look like? I’m making you breakfast.” He wandered back out from behind the counter and grabbed Luhan’s wrist, dragging him to the bedroom and pointing at the closet, “Now go get changed.” He left the room, closed the door and started back towards the kitchen to look for a cutting board.

Kim Minseok was just turning the omelette onto a plate when Luhan returned, having taken a quick shower before getting into clean clothes. “Smells good. What’d you make?” Luhan asked, settling into a chair.

“Omelette, toast and orange juice.” Kim Minseok answered, sliding the dish in front of Luhan, the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice above the fork. He took a seat in the chair on the other side of the table and rested his head in his cupped hands, leaning his elbows into the table. “Well, go ahead. It’s not _that_ bad. I promise I didn’t poison it with anything but my poor cooking skills.” ( _Poison would have been a great idea though_ , Xiumin thought quietly.)

Kim Minseok watched Luhan eat his breakfast in comfortable silence, occasionally breaking into a wide smile. It was strange, how easy it was to sit with someone and not have to force conversation. Maybe he’d done it before on another job, Xiumin mused.

“Okay, what is this all about?” Luhan finally asked when he dusted his fingers of the crumbs from his slice of toast.

“It’s Luhan day.”

“What?”

Kim Minseok reached over and used his thumb to brush away a crumb that Luhan had missed at the corner of his mouth, “Luhan day,” he repeated, “A day where we do whatever you want.”

“Wh-?” Luhan’s eyes fell on the calendar, “Oh,” he added quietly when he noted that the X’s that Kim Minseok drew at each day’s end stopped at the box that read April 20th. “It’s my birthday, huh?” he acknowledged solemnly, “Last year, me and Yix-“ Luhan stopped abruptly before he could finish, swallowing the rest of the sentence.

Xiumin felt something stir in the pit of his stomach at the pained look on Luhan’s face. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Luhan took a deep breath, “Well then, what’s on the menu for ‘Luhan Day’ then?”

Kim Minseok grinned, “I already said, whatever you want. We can go buy you a pony if you want.”

Luhan laughed and for the first time since they met, Xiumin felt that it wasn’t forced. “A pony? No, I think that’s quite alright, Mr. Millionaire.”

Kim Minseok rolled his eyes, “You get the idea.”

Luhan shrugged in contemplation, “Well… my wardrobe’s looking a little faded…” he said after a while.

“Then to the mall we go!” Kim Minseok exclaimed excitedly, hopping up from his seat and threading his arm through Luhan’s to pull him to his feet.

“Wait! What about the dishes?”

Xiumin felt the compulsion to clean them before they left as Luhan was suggesting but Kim Minseok pulled on Luhan’s arm harder, “They’ll be here when we get back.” He dropped his arm and snaked his fingers between Luhan’s, an action that was now so common he didn’t even have to think about it. “Now let’s _go_ , before Luhan Day is all over.”

…

_“Please, Minseok! This is all messed up,” Yifan pleaded to the man whom he once called his best friend. “What they’re doing isn’t right, Seokie. They’re turning you into someone I don’t even recognize anymore.”_

_“You’re wrong, Kris. You’re the one who’s turned. They_ saved _me. Saved me from certain death. Saved you too.”_

_“My name isn’t Kris!” He was practically shouting. “It’s Wu Yifan! Argh, it’s these damn drugs they’ve got you on!” He headed to the cupboards in the kitchen and started throwing open the doors, “Where are they, Minseok? We have to pour them out!”_

_“You’re making things worse for yourself.”_

_Yifan ignored the warning tone in the other’s voice, finally finding the door third from the left. He grabbed the first tinted glass bottle and threw throwing it forcefully onto the floor, the impact scattering broken grey shards and red pills all over the pristine snow white kitchen floor._

_“Stop it, Kris. You’re acting irresponsibly.”_

_“STOP CALLING ME KRIS!” Yifan glared at the other as he crushed a handful of the fallen tablets under the heels of his shoes. He grabbed the second bottle and raised his hand to repeat what he’d done with the first. “And you’re Kim Minseok, you jack ass!”_

Bang _._

_Wu Yifan’s body fell lifelessly to the floor, a bleeding hole in his head and the bottle of white spheres rolling from his unclenched hand as blind brown eyes stared up at the man with the gun in his hand._

_“My name is Xiumin.”_

…

Xiumin woke up breathing heavily with sweat beaded along his hair line and screaming _his_ name desperately, “Yifan!” He bolted up straight in his bed and drew his knees to his chest, eyebrows stitching together as a slideshow began to play in front of his eyes.

Kim Minseok being asked to assist the classmate who was struggling with math in first grade. Kim Minseok playing with him in the school yard. Kim Minseok covering for him when he was caught cheating on a test. Kim Minseok teasing him about his first girlfriend, but helping him get over her all the same when she dumped him for someone else. Kim Minseok comforting him when he lost his parents. Kim Minseok getting him caught up in his own problems with the gangs. Kim Minseok refusing to leave him behind when Sector had saved Kim Minseok but didn’t want to recruit his friend as well. Kim Minseok buying into the story that Sector had made up, the story that put doubt about him in Kim Minseok’s mind.

Kim Minseok losing himself and killing the one person who’d been there for him his whole life.

“Nonononono,” he whispered to himself hopelessly, “This can’t be true. It just can’t be.” He dropped his shaking head in between his knees and ran his hands through his hair repeatedly as the slideshow started to play all his successful assignments back to him in the order they were executed.

There was a reason why his conscious had suspected the name he’d given Luhan when they’d first met. There was a reason why he had wanted to comfort Luhan after his best friend’s death despite what Xiumin’s training told him to do. There was a reason why Kim Minseok was such an easy part to play.

Because Kim Minseok wasn’t an alias: it was the real him before he became Xiumin.

Tears began falling down his face and he wondered when the scenes would stop; how many people had he killed? His eyes widened in horror as the movie continued past the fight Xiumin had with Lay in his apartment: Luhan was lying deathly still on his couch with red marks around his neck, arm hanging limply over the side.


	4. Blue is for Speed

“Luhan!” Minseok banged on Luhan’s door loudly as he shouted the name repeatedly, ignoring the doors opening in the hallway and the curious heads that poked out. “Open the damn door, Luhan!”

After an elderly lady opened her door and told Minseok to ‘Shut up or I’m calling the police!’, the door to Luhan’s apartment finally opened. A sinking feeling in his stomach about the blackness from the gap between the door and the frame made Minseok wonder whether he’d been too late.

“What do you want?!” Luhan growled before recognizing his loud guest. “Minseok? What are you-“

Minseok didn’t let let Luhan finish as he nearly jumped on top of Luhan, wrapping his arms tightly around him, “Oh, thank god they didn’t get to you.” He’d lost Yifan to them already, and he wasn’t about to lose Luhan too.

“What’s wrong, Minseok?” Luhan asked, reaching a hand up to stroke the back of Minseok’s hair worriedly as he returned the hug.

Minseok didn’t answer, shaking his head furiously into Luhan’s neck as he pulled the latter tighter into his embrace, his heart thumping violently in his chest. He was now in the exact same position that Agent Kai had surely been before Xiumin had mercilessly hit Do Kyungsoo with the rented black sedan.

Sentinels were the ones sent to deal with situations like this, but who did the organisation send when it was their best that had to be relieved of duty

…

Minseok didn’t leave Luhan’s side when he could help it, and while Luhan didn’t object, he was beginning to get suspicious. It occurred to Minseok that it might be dangerous for him to stay around Luhan given what he’d seen that night he’d learnt his real identity, but he waved the thought away because there was no way Minseok would hurt Luhan.

No way in any of the circles of hell.

But it didn’t mean Xiumin wouldn’t, so he’d destroyed the last of his supply, crushing the coloured tablets and flushing them down the toilet that same night after he’d made sure that Luhan had been safe. He made a note to himself to do the same for the batch that was scheduled to arrive on the first of May.

…

Luhan was no longer crying every night, and had started to genuinely smile again, much to Minseok’s relief, but the grief was now moderately replaced by mild concern about Minseok and why he had suddenly deemed it necessary to move in permanently with Luhan. Minseok had made the excuse that he just missed Luhan and didn’t like being away from him. While it was true, Luhan was still giving him suspicious-eye every so often.

Minseok knew he was being followed before the agent announced his presence. He was no longer taking any of his enhancement pills but that didn’t negate all the training he had obtained before he had started to take then. He had been on the rare trip away from Luhan, going to the grocery store to pick up the essentials before Luhan came home from work.

As Minseok approached the counter to pay for his purchase, he started the routine of spec-ing out the building, something Xiumin would have usually already done upon his entry, not his exit. There was a customer bathroom at the end of the line of cashiers, and the exit was in the opposite direction, next to the entrance. If his follower was to follow general Sector guidelines, Minseok would be safe at least until he was alone. Minseok couldn’t say for sure if he was up for a fight with the unidentified agent; he’d been completely off his medications for almost a week, and even before then, he hadn’t been taking the full dosage. If he was lucky, the fact that he had been their number one wasn’t due only to those medications. But the truth was, he also hadn’t been following his regular schedule of going to the gym ever since he’d moved into Luhan’s home. Honestly, the odds were stacked sky-high against him if there was a confrontation.

inseok packed the grocery bags into the car trunk and started the engine uneasily. He couldn’t go back to Luhan’s apartment, not with whoever was hunting him following him. He shifted into drive and turned right into traffic, as his unconscious mind directed him towards a deserted park.

Slamming the door as he got out, he called out to no one in particular, “Why don’t you stop watching me from the shadows and show yourself?”

A male that was approximately the same size as himself appeared in front of Minseok, as if materialising from thin air. “Ah, not bad and here I was thinking that you were a completely lost cause.” The tracker was standing with impeccable posture, his hands held behind his back. He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit, hair slicked back out of his face. Minseok was reminded briefly of the way Xiumin had dressed at Zhang Yixing’s memorial service.

“And who have they sent?” Minseok asked, his senses tingling from the wall of tension between them.

The man bowed, as if mocking Minseok, “Suho.”

Minseok smirked, “’Guardian’, huh? I thought that was just a myth within the agency.” The Guardian program had been rumoured to be the successor for the Sentinel program, with even better enhancements. Biotechnology was always advancing, and why settle for good when you could have great.

Suho smiled politely, hands still behind his back, and Minseok had the fleeting thought that Suho was laughing at him for his naivety.

"I hope you’re not expecting me to go silently.”

Suho nodded once curtly, and Xiumin was starting to feel uneasy about the formality of the man standing opposite him.

The two stood in silence, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

“I have infinite patience,” Suho said, in the unnerving calm voice he had been using from the beginning.

Minseok’s teeth ground together in anxiety; Luhan would be heading home soon, and if Sector 5 had sent more than one, then… he didn’t want to think about it.

“All the patience in the world, Xiumin,” Suho continued. “I will wait until I finish here with you, and then I will pay your _friend,_ Luhan, a little visit. Unlucky little fellow isn’t he? Falling into the lives of not one, but _two_ Sector agents.” His mouth curled upwards in what Minseok could only assume was a sneer.

“Don’t you dare touch him,” Minseok shot back protectively, suddenly reaching down and pulling out the knife in his boot, a practiced arm whipping it towards Suho’s chest.

A gloved hand shot up and caught the blade, turning it around and throwing it sharply back at Minseok, an attack he only just managed to turn sideways to avoid. A full mocking grin spread across Suho’s vacant features, “You’re slipping, Xiumin. _Human emotion is weakness._ That was the first lesson, or have you forgotten?”

Minseok narrowed his eyes at Suho (who had returned his hands to rest behind him) and kneeled to pick up the knife now standing erect with its point dug into the dirt driveway. He wrapped his fingers one-by-one tightly around the handle before shooting the now permanently smirking Suho one last glare.

“My name isn’t Xiumin,” he whispered, an echo of Yifan those years ago. “It’s Kim Minseok.”

…

Minseok gasped heavily as he grabbed the stitch in his side. He’d barely managed to get away from Suho, and if he didn’t keep running, the damned robot would catch up to him, regardless of how much ‘patience’ he had. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Leaning against the nearest tree, he loosened his death grip on his knife and stretched the muscles, on finger at a time. With his other hand, he reached up to the back of his left ear, where a rectangular bump protruded under his hair: his Sector tracker chip. If he had any hope of getting away with his life, he’d have to dig the strip out. His gaze fell upon the only thing that could cut his skin and frowned; he couldn’t run if his body was busy fighting off an infection from a dirty knife.

Minseok squinted against the sunset and recognized a liquor store at the end of the street. He tore a strip of cloth from the bottom of the t-shirt he wore under his hooded sweater and wrapped it around the wound on his lower arm. Pulling the hood up over his head, hopefully covering the gash that Suho had so kindly given his forehead, he started limping towards his goal.

…

“What happened?!” Luhan exclaimed when Minseok showed up at the apartment with a half emptied bottle of liquor in one hand, and a bloody ear.

Minseok shook his head, “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered as he stumbled inside, “We have to go, _now_.”

“What are you talking about? Who did this to you?”

Frustrated, Minseok ignored his queries, “Just grab a bag and start packing. Just the necessities.”

“Why?” Luhan asked with apprehension, “Where are we going? Can you _please_ tell me why you look like this?” He reached a hand to the cut on Minseok’s forehead only to have it batted away.

“Just do it, okay?!”

Luhan stepped back and folded his arms across his chest, eyes glowing with something quite different from worry now. “Not until you tell me what’s going on, Kim Minseok,” he said in a hard, steady voice.

Minseok swallowed, looking straight into Luhan’s expectant eyes. “Zhang Yixing’s death wasn’t an accident,” he said after a moment’s hesitation.

“W-what…?” Luhan whispered, arms dropping to his side. “What are you talking about Seokie?”

“I killed him.”

Luhan stepped backwards quickly, fear clouding his delicate features as he processed the information Kim Minseok was feeding him humourlessly.

“No, you have to listen to me,” Minseok pleaded, taking a step forwards, which only made Luhan take two backwards, tears threatening to fall from his already glossy eyes.

“N-no…”

“Listen!” Minseok said, a little more aggressively, closing the gap between the two so he could grab Luhan tightly around the wrists to prevent him from running. “ _You have to listen to me!”_ He shouted as Luhan struggled, finally falling to the ground when he ran out of energy, losing against Minseok’s agent training.

Minseok waited until Luhan stopped wriggling so fiercely before he started to explain himself. He told him about Sector 5. He told him about the role of Sentinels. He told him about the pills of white, red and blue. He told him about Lay and he told him about Yifan.

“So we have to go, okay. We have to run, you and I.” Minseok looked imploringly at Luhan, who had fallen silent as he listened to Minseok’s story. He finally let go of Luhan’s wrists and slide backwards on the floor to give Luhan some distance. “You believe me, right?”

Luhan didn’t answer right away so Minseok wrapped his arms around his knees and waited.

“You’re fucking crazy.” A pause. “You’re fucking crazy and I let you into my home. I _trusted_ you.”

Minseok held his breath and watched Luhan stare at his wrists as he rubbed the soreness from them.

“Get out,” Luhan finally said after a minute of silence.

Minseok stared blankly back at Luhan, who was now avoiding his gaze, “Didn’t you hear me? We have to _leave_.”

“No, _you_ have to leave.” Luhan got to his feet and headed to his front door, opening it for Minseok, “You take your crackpot story and you leave me the fuck alone, you psychopath.”

“No, wait-“

“Leave now, before I call the cops and tell them exactly what you just told me, including the details of my _best friend_ ’s death.”

Minseok got up reluctantly and walked towards the door, turning one last time towards Luhan when he reached it. “I was only trying to make things right.”

The door slammed shut, narrowly missing Minseok’s already bloody nose.

…

Minseok tracked Suho to a hotel room fourteen blocks from Luhan’s apartment, something that had taken more time than if he had been in tip-top shape: his delivery from Sector hadn’t arrived on the first of May, understandably; Minseok couldn’t say if he would have taken them, anyway.

Minseok stood in front of the hotel door with arms crossed as he surveyed it, looking for the mark of a trap. Agents on the medications were annoying paranoid, as Minseok knew too well. Whenever Xuimin had had to go out of town for assignment, he had always chosen a room that had a balcony, that had been on the third floor, that had windows that faced the street for a quick getaway: a room whose description matched the one behind this door perfectly.  Whenever Xiumin had left the room, he would rig the door such that anyone who tried to enter would trigger a silent alarm whose signal was sent straight to his phone.

“Where is it?!” Minseok scowled, eyes combing the door left to right before they fell on a thin piece of metal stuck to the top hinge. Freeing his hands, he stepped sideways and peeled the trap carefully from the door before turning the handle with a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hanging on it.

The inside of the hotel room was exactly was Xiumin would have organized it and Minseok easily found the canisters he’d been looking for. He recognized the bottles that housed the white and the blue, but where the red should have been, stood two other vials that contained yellow and purple.

 _Upgrades_ , Minseok thought bitterly just as the phone in his pocket gave a shudder.

 _Smile for the camera, Xiumin._ The text message read. A high pitched tone started to beep below him and Minseok crouched to find a blinking red light under the table he stood in front of. A swear slipped from his lips as he got up, grabbed the four containers without looking and _ran_. He was barely into the corridor when the blast erupted behind him, throwing him onto the ground as debris flew around his head.

Clearly, Guardians were less concerned about being discrete than Sentinels were.

Minseok stood up again, pausing and leaning against a wall that hadn’t been destroyed to let the ringing in his ear stop before he started to walk again. The phone he was still holding in his hand vibrated again: _There’s nowhere you can run…_ , the message read cryptically. Irritably, Minseok pulled the battery from the phone and threw it to the ground, stomping on it with one foot until the screen shattered. How could he have been so careless to keep his work phone with him?

A beep from the phone he used only with Luhan sounded the moment he kicked his phone to the wall: … _Where we can’t find you._

The second device fell from his hand as the name of the only person he cared about tumbled out from his mouth, barely audible. “Luhan.”

…

“Where are you, Luhan?” Minseok asked desperately out loud, running along the sidewalk away from the building where Luhan worked: Luhan’s co-worker had told Minseok upstairs that Luhan had left work early today and Minseok had no idea where he could be.

Minseok had been too careless. He’d assumed that the same rules that had applied to Xiumin the Sentinel would apply to Suho the Guardian, but the explosion at the hotel changed things. Luhan wasn’t safe, even if he was in a busy area with the world as his witness.

He found Luhan in the seventeenth place he looked, a convenience store near his apartment where Luhan was reading the nutritional information of a box of crackers.

“Oh thank god,” Minseok breathed for the second time since he found out who he was.

Luhan dropped the box in alarm and stepped backwards at the sight of Minseok. “I thought I told you to stay away from me.”

“I know, I just-“

“ _Please_ , just leave me alone,” Luhan bent over to pick up the box and replaced it to the shelf before walking briskly to the end of the aisle. With a nod at the cashier at the front of the store, he opened the store door and hurried outside towards his car.

“I can’t just leave you alone, Luhan!” Minseok practically shouted after Luhan. He caught up to Luhan and grabbed his elbow. “They’re coming after you, after both of us. I know you don’t want to believe me, but you have to let me protect you!”

Luhan stopped walking to shrug Minseok’s hand off with a glare, “I don’t need you or your crazy stories! Just stop it already!”

Minseok was about to reply when the second explosion today broke out in the small parking area: where Luhan would have been if Minseok hadn’t grabbed him back was a blackened car now consumed in dancing flames. Luhan’s eyes were wide with shock and Minseok shook him lightly. “This was what I was talking about! _Now_ will you believe me?”

Luhan didn’t, or couldn’t, give a response so Minseok took his hand started to pull him away from the scene where passers-by were already stopping to point and sirens were wailing in the distance. _That stoic Guardian sure had a thing for theatrics, despite his cool demeanour,_ he thought to himself.

Minseok had managed to pull the staggering Luhan almost a block around the corner before Luhan pushed his hand off forcefully. “How do I know _you_ didn’t set that off?” he asked, face still pale. “Aren’t you the bad guy? You said so yourself, you killed Yixing.”

Minseok turned to face Luhan, “If I wasn’t on your side, you’d be dead by now,” he said seriously. He pulled out Suho’s bottles that he’d been keeping in his jacket pocket and held them up for Luhan to see. “Look, he’s like I used to be, except worse,” he lowered the two bottles of white and blue back into his pocket, freeing up his hands to emphatically hold up the one containing the yellow in his left and the one containing the purple in his right, “I don’t know what these ones do, not really, but I can only assume that they’re a worse form of the red ones I took. I don’t even think he knows he’s still only human,” he explained, recalling the way Suho carried himself.

Luhan’s shoulders drooped and he took a seat on the cold cement sidewalk they had been standing on. Minseok looked around furtively before sitting down next to Luhan, head still scanning left and right as he tried to keep track of his surroundings.

“You’re telling the truth then?” Luhan’s voice was unbearably soft.

Minseok nodded as he pocketed the remaining bottles. “I’m sorry about La-, uhm, I mean Zhang Yixing,” he corrected himself. “And you can’t go back to your place.”

Luhan closed his eyes, “Lay?” He asked at the mention of the dead agent’s call name, reminded of the furry pet. “She’s going to die if no one looks after her.”

Minseok wanted to say he didn’t care about the stupid rabbit but thought better of it. He could tell that Luhan wasn’t concerned about the rabbit per se; he was still just trying to process everything that had just happened. Minseok pulled out the bottles again and aligned them in a straight line in front of him. “I’ll have to…” he trailed off as the image of Luhan’s limp body sprung into his mind again.

“No.” Luhan said, understanding what Minseok meant to do. “ _No_ , Minseokie. You _can’t_.” He stood up abruptly and kicked the nearest container towards the street where a passing car rolled over it with a crunch.

Minseok grabbed Luhan around the shoulders and pushing him backwards as he tried to kick at the next bottle. “I have to! I can’t beat them otherwise!”

“NO! I won’t let you forget yourself again. I don’t want you to forget me too!”

Minseok grabbed at the fisted hands Luhan had been using to try to push Minseok away with to get at the bottles on the ground. “I won’t, Luhan! I’d never forget you, Luhan.” He pulled the flailing male in front of him into his chest, wrapping his firm arms around him. He waited until the struggling calmed into quiet sobs that wet his shoulder.

“I could never forget you, Luhan.”

Minseok stepped back a little so he could lift Luhan’s chin to face him head on, wiping his face with the other hand. He looked into Luhan’s soaked eyes with a sting in his chest and leaned forward again, to place his lips lightly on Luhan’s, now wet from the tears. When he pulled away, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Luhan’s shoulder.

“Couldn’t even if I tried.”

…

Minseok searched the man he currently had against the wall with a sharp blade against his neck, tossing the weapons he found concealed in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, the holster under his arm, the belt clip, the inside of his boot. When he was satisfied that Suho could not make a surprise attack that he couldn’t deflect easily, Minseok removed the earpiece from Suho’s head and replaced into his own ear.

“Agent Xiumin. I’m impressed,” a booming voice said into Xiumin’s head as he pressed the blade harder against Suho’s throat, drawing a trickle of blood.

“Stop chasing me,” he said flatly, ignoring the comment.

“Ah, no can do there. You see, Sentinels were supposed to be the perfect weapon, and yet here you stand proving that the damned human nature can screw everything up. And when a component of the system is flawed, the entire structure of it has to be re-evaluated. How do you like the better version of yourself?”

Minseok narrowed his eyes at Suho, who was still wearing his indifferent gaze, though he looked like he was trying hard not to smirk. “I think you need to look up the word ‘better’ in the dictionary.”

"That’s true, I suppose.” A cold laugh echoed in his ear, “Suho is really just a prototype. We’re still working out the kinks.” There was a pause, “Eliminate him.”

“Are you giving me _orders_? I don’t work for you anymore.”

“Then let him go.”

Minseok’s jaw clenched as he imagined his ex-employer enjoying the predicament Minseok was being put in. The owner of the voice in his ear knew Minseok didn’t want to follow orders, but he also knew that Minseok couldn’t let Suho live. Minseok turned his attention behind him, to Luhan who was huddled into a corner with his arms wrapped around his knees fearfully and staring at Minseok with unblinking eyes.

“Fine,” Minseok bit out under his breath so Luhan couldn’t hear as he turned back to face Suho with a sneer, “You keep sending your little bitches after me. I’ll just kill every. Last. One. I hope your _system_ is prepared for its first diagnostic.”

"Just like the good little soldier you were trained to be, huh?” There was another laugh before the line cut out. Minseok pulled the earpiece out and dropped it to the ground, bringing his foot heavily down on it and shattering it under his heel.

“Luhan?” Minseok called out gently, receiving a tiny whimper in response, “Cover your eyes, okay?” He turned around to check that Luhan couldn’t see what he was doing before he dug the blade harder and swiped it sideways. He watched the life drain from Suho’s mocking eyes with a grimace before he set the body down quietly. The knife in his hand clattered to the floor as Minseok stepped back, and knelt down in front of Luhan, blocking his view from the body behind him.

"Is it over?” Luhan asked, still hugging his knees to himself

Minseok clenched his jaw and shook his head, “I doubt it, which is why we’re going to run."

“But they’ll catch up."

“Then we’ll just have to be faster."

Luhan frowned, “How? You’ll run out of your… _enhancement_ _pills_ soon enough."

Minseok sighed and crossed his legs under him, still facing Luhan. He took Luhan’s hand in his, getting up momentarily to kiss his forehead, “I don’t need drugs to beat them. Not when I have something worth fighting for now."

…

A finger traced along the dark line of a tattoo that stood out in contrast to the pale skin onto which it had been imprinted, amidst almost a hundred others.

A tree on his lower back on the left, which wrapped around to his front, for the hit-and-run incident.

A small rabbit just below his right collar bone for his last assignment as Sector 5’s Sentinel.

A dragon that snaked up left arm for the friend Kim Minseok had lost to Xiumin.

And his most recent and still a little raw from the procedure: a pair of deer antlers that sprouted on his chest where his heart beat under the skin.


End file.
